Jerks of the Week - April 18, 2011

Jerks of the Week for April 18, 2011

JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 1: Ces' Party

I've known my friend Ces ever since I switched my major at Penn State to sports journalism in 2004. We had two classes together and would usually hang out on weekends. He graduated a year before me, but our homes are an hour apart, so we kept in touch. In fact, he constantly makes the trip from Allentown to Philly to attend the parties I throw every few months.

I, however, had never made the trip up to Allentown prior to last weekend. I've always said that I was busy, but in all honesty, I really don't like leaving my house. That involves walking and driving, and stuff, which is too difficult.

I was free last Saturday though, and it was Ces' 28th birthday, so I decided that it was finally time to visit his house for the first time in seven years.

A couple of days prior to the event, Ces and I had this exchange on Facebook:

Ces: Well, as long as you can come to my party and not find fault with the festivities, that's alright by me!

Me: Dude, if you don't think there's a Jerks of the Week entry coming from your party, then you don't know me very well.

I had a good time at Ces' house. But since I'm a man of my word, here are three jerks from his party:

1. Unwanted Child Picture:

I was on my third beer when I noticed this baby picture of Ces on his refrigerator:

As soon as I saw this, my Jerk of the Week spidey sense tingled. Maybe it's because I was buzzed, but I thought this picture was hilarious. I had the following conversation with everyone at the party:

Me: Look, it's a missing child picture of Ces!

Random Girl: Awwww, what a cute picture!

Me: Forget all that. Look at the phone number, it's not even real.

Random Girl: 10-10-220, I remember that.

Me: Yeah, but if your kid's missing, why would you want someone to dial 10-10-220? At least give them a real phone number. It's almost like they want him to be lost.

As far as I know, Ces was never lost, so his parents' devious plan to abandon their child failed miserably.

Ten minutes later, I was in a food coma. I was sitting at the table, when I realized that everyone was talking about saving energy or something. One of the people at the table was a hot chick, so I thought it would be a good idea to impress her:

Random Person: I save so much energy blah blah blah.

Random Person: I save so much energy too blah blah blah.

Me: No one wastes more energy than me!

Everyone at the table gave me a dirty look, but I continued bragging:

Me: I keep my office TV on at all times. I keep my downstairs TV on at all times, so if I want to get something out of my refrigerator, I can walk into the room and watch TV without having to grab the remote and turn it on. I have two computers running 24-7. I keep my lights on in every room, even when I leave the house. I have my thermostat set to 74 degrees, even when I leave the house. Oh, and I'm not a big fan of recycling either.

My name is Walter Cherepinsky, and I'm proud to be destroying the environment.

3. Lame Boyfriend:

Despite my energy-wasting tirade, people still spoke to me for the rest of the night - including the hot chick I wanted to impress.

This girl was great to talk to. She's a big football and baseball fan. She even thinks that QB Dog Killer is an overrated scumbag. I gave her my card, and she seemed impressed that I write about football for a living.

I spoke to her for 30-45 minutes straight. The problem? Her boyfriend was also at Ces' party.

Was he jealous that I talked to her non-stop? No. He didn't even know about it because he wasn't in the room. At first, I figured he went to the bathroom, or was talking to someone else in the dining room. I expected him to walk into the kitchen and kick my a** any second. However, the hot chick began complaining about her boyfriend:

Hot Chick: See, I like football and baseball, so I'm friends with more guys than girls. But the ironic thing is that my boyfriend doesn't even like sports.

*** Not that there's anything wrong with that. ***

Me: Wow, really?

Hot Chick: Yeah, he's such a girl. He gets his eyebrows waxed, and whenever I mention something about sports or cars, he just shrugs his shoulders.

*** Not that there's anything wrong with that. ***

Me: That's pretty nuts. Where is he anyway?

Hot Chick: He's sitting in his car.

Me: What? Why?

Hot Chick: He doesn't like social situations.

Me: So he's just avoiding everyone?

Hot Chick: Yeah, he doesn't like to meet people, and he's awkward in social settings.

What the hell is that all about? How can this guy function in regular social settings? I can only imagine Lame Boyfriend at an office party:

On the bright side, Lame Boyfriend is wasting plenty of energy by keeping his car running, so he's cool like me in that way.

JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: Angry Black Man

Speaking of lame boyfriends, I met this super-hot chick at my friend Adrienne's party last June. This girl inexplicably was with this thugged-out weirdo who had Jheri curls and eyebrow piercings.

We all sat at the same table. This guy fell asleep during the party, which I thought was pretty weird. As for the girl, I only said one word to her there, but she friended me on Facebook that night. We began talking, and we eventually hung out on several occasions. Unfortunately, my best friend and her best friend had some sort of weird falling out, which I won't get into, so I haven't seen her since October.

However, the girl is still with her boyfriend. I actually wanted to make the guy a Jerk of the Week before - I planned on calling him Jehri Curl Eyebrow Piercing Man - but I didn't have any material beyond the falling asleep part.

As of Monday, that changed. I received a seemingly random Facebook message from an angry black man:

Uh oh. An angry black man is sending me random malicious Facebook messages? I figured it was one of two things:

1. He stole someone's computer and was very confused by the Internet, particularly Facebook, so he fired off a series of heated messages to random people.

2. He was challenging me to a dance contest. I've seen stuff like this happen in the movies. Black guys walk up to white guys, and challenge them to dance contests. Then, the white guys lose, and the black guys say, "You got served."

Like all other white guys, I can't dance. I don't want to be served. Please, anything but that. I'll even teach you how to use the Internet, Angry Black Man!

Ah, I suddenly realized who this was. I was relieved because I wasn't going to get served.

So, this genius figures out that I made "a move" on his girlfriend in August and September, and just decides to message me now? This would be like if the Japanese suddenly decided to wage war on America for dropping a bomb on Hiroshima...

Barack Obama: Dude, that was more than 65 years ago. Both you and I weren't even born yet.

Japanese President: I kno where u rive too so dnt burrs*** me.

Barack Obama: Umm... yeah... the White House. Everyone knows that.

Unlike Japanese President, Angry Black Man does not know where I live. Call me crazy, but I don't think he has a super-sleuth private investigator working for him on retainer.

At any rate, I advised Angry Black Man that it probably wasn't smart to make threats on Facebook, for legal purposes. I mean, why not get my lawyers on retainer and sue him for everything that he has? That's the true American way.

OK, the "arguement" Angry Black Man is referring to is a fight between his girlfriend and my sister. His girlfriend unfriended me on Facebook the previous weekend because she thought I was talking behind her back. A mutual friend of ours later told her that it was only my sister who was saying stuff, so she texted me Monday morning, apologized, and asked her to friend her again on Facebook.

And I just suffered a nosebleed typing that previous paragraph. I'm not one for girly drama, even though I'm an avid viewer of 90210 and Desperate Housewives. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Stay of the streets? Yes! As I wrote in my previous Jerks of the Week entry, I don't like leaving my house. So, thank you, I will stay off the streets.

Question though: By streets, do you mean small roads, or big streets? What about cul-de-sacs? There's a cul-de-sac nearby where I get my mail. Can I not "stay off" said cul-de-sac? Please?

Talk to her if I don't believe they're threats? I actually already did. Here's a text from her regarding his threats:

"He is such a big baby. He gets mad when I wear that Walter Football shirt too. He isn't going to do anything, and I will def. address this ASAP."

OK, Angry Black Man, when we're discussing my lifespan, let's begin with the history of heart conditions on my dad's side of the family...

This makes no sense. Why is he telling me to "shut the f*** up" if he's the one messaging me and fake threatening me? Let's bring in Japanese President and Barack Obama again.

Japanese President: Shrut the fruck up!

Barack Obama: What? You're the one who called me to declare war.

Japanese President: Shrut the fruck up like I tord you to!

Barack Obama: I don't understand.

Japanese President: We wirr discuss your rife span!

Ah, nothing like messing with a stupid person and giving them a false sense of security that they're smarter than you.

That was fun. I should hit on other hot girls with boyfriends so I can have more conversations like this. I'd try it on the hot chick from Ces' party, but her boyfriend doesn't like interacting with people, so he'd probably sit in his car instead of sending me dumb messages on Facebook.

JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: Another Angry Black Man

I've offended two black people this week. That's well below Daniel Tosh's average, but I still think that's a respectable amount.

I posted my annual NFL Celebrity Mock Draft on Wednesday. The premise, if you're unfamiliar with it, is that I have 32 random celebrities make selections for teams in the NFL Draft. I made fun of Charlie Sheen, Rebecca Black, Barack Obama and other random people, so check it out if you haven't already.

I received some great feedback from it, but just like last year, there was one major douchebag who accused me of being racist. This year, some moron was upset about the exchange between Adrian Peterson and Kunta Kinte that I posted in the Vikings selection.

A bit of a background: Peterson, a running back for the Vikings, recently said that NFL players are treated like "modern day slaves," in light of an impending lockout. Peterson is set to make $10.7 million in 2011.

Peterson's comment was ignorant and stupid, so I wanted to make fun of him in my celebrity mock. Here was what I wrote if you don't feel like clicking the previous link:

Adrian Peterson: Despite what anyone says, the NFL is modern-day slavery. I'm drafting Kunta Kinte, a former slave, so he can confirm this.

Kunta Kinte: Thank you for drafting me. Where do I go to get branded?

Adrian Peterson: Your agent will take care of that for you. Being the No. 12 pick in the NFL Draft, I'm sure you'll get to choose from several brands of products to advertise. All you'll have to do is speak for about 30 seconds in a commercial, and you'll get paid. Easy money.

Kunta Kinte: Paid?

Adrian Peterson: Duh. You're not going to be a spokesman for Pepsi or McDonald's for free.

Kunta Kinte: Well, OK, when the masters ask me whether I want to be castrated or have my right foot cut off, which should I choose?

Adrian Peterson: Don't worry about that either. The Vikings have state-of-the-art doctors and medical facilities at your disposal. If your foot gets cut off, they'll repair it in no time.

Kunta Kinte: And when I have a daughter, will the masters take her away from me and sell her to North Carolina?

Adrian Peterson: North Carolina? That would suck if she were traded to the Panthers. But stay calm. As long as you pay child support, you'll be fine. But considering that you'll be getting a signing bonus of $15 million, that shouldn't be an issue either way.

Kunta Kinte: Wait, so in this modern-day slavery, I get paid for doing commercials, receive terrific medical treatment and earn millions of dollars for playing a game?

Adrian Peterson: Yeah, and if you play well, you get another massive contract. It's a nightmare, isn't it?

Many people liked this - save for one. Some a**hole named Chris E. who sent me the following e-mail:

Pretty offensive son... Way to take one uneducated comment and come off like a jealous racist, who's upset about the millions these guys make... you are a NE fan, which means you may be from the Bean.. The most racist city not in the old slavery belt... Makes sense now... Way to be bro...

Weh? Let's take a look at this guy's inaccuracies:

1. I'm not a NE (New England) fan.

2. I'm not from the Bean (Boston). I live outside of Philadelphia.

3. I don't care how much black players make because I made fun of Drew Brees in a similar fashion later in my celebrity mock. I also mocked owner Jerry Richardson's (a white guy) frugality.

Kunta Kinte's a sore subject? Really? I've watched Roots multiple times. LeVar Burton, in my opinion, is a living legend, but I can't talk about Kunta Kinte? How does that make any sense?

Me: The fact that you see that as racist tells me that you are the one who is racist. And with that, you will be a Jerk of the Week.

Chris E: Way to stay classy Walt... I come to you with a serious matter and you think its a joke... You aren't black, so you'll never understand why or how blacks respond to race. Not a lot of epithets for white folk man... Kunta Kinte was a tactless choice, and you're too stubborn to admit it... I just wasted 15 minutes of my life with these emails...

I've come up with three reasons as to why Chris E. might be pissed off:

1. He has a dildo up his anus.

2. Chris E. has never watched Roots and doesn't know that Kunta Kinte is a real character, instead thinking that I used "Kunta Kinte" as an "epithet" for slave.

3. LeVar Burton refused to sign an autograph for Chris E. a few years ago, so mentioning any of Burton's characters, including Geordi La Forge, is a touchy subject.

In that case, I should send Chris E. a replica of Geordi's visor. If I did that, Chris E. would probably slit his wrists or jump off a building, yelling, "Why, LeVar, why!?!?!"